


Blessings

by DizzyDrea



Category: Castle
Genre: Babies, F/M, Family, Late Night Conversations, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 19:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can hear you thinking," Castle whispers into the dark. She laughs quietly, burying her nose into his warm, t-shirt-clad chest. "What are you thinking about?"<br/>"Just counting my blessings," she says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blessings

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, my Castle muse has returned! She crawled under the couch after the season premiere and I haven't seen her since. It's not that I don't love the show this season, I think, because I do. They're back to that playfulness and the comedy/drama that made me fall in love with the show in the first place. I think it's more that what I always loved _writing_ about was the _possibility_ of their relationship. Now that they're together, I have less to write about. It'll take me some time to find the places where my muse fits in, I think. 
> 
> In the meantime, I have no idea where this story came from. Really. I watched _The Lives of Others_ last week, and loved how well Kate knows Castle by now that she knew that he'd love a murder mystery to keep him busy while he recovers from his broken kneecap. No idea how that connects to this, except to say that they're happy, and this is just another moment in time where they're happier than they maybe think they deserve to be. /shrugs/ Just enjoy it. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Castle is the property of ABC, ABC Studios, Beacon Productions, Andrew Marlowe and a lot of other people who aren’t me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

Kate Beckett stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb, just watching. 

She's tired, more tired than she ever remembers being, but the bed had been empty when she'd woken, and after so many years of a comforting warmth by her side all night long, she finds she misses it.

The moonlight filters in through the wide windows, gilding the room in bright silver. There's a hush in the air, the sound of traffic and the quiet bustle of New York at three in the morning barely audible through the glass.

She can't say what woke her, beyond knowing that the bed was cooler than she was used to. She hadn't heard any noise, and being a cop had taught her to be a light sleeper. 

Still, something had woken her, and now she has her answer.

Across the room, awash in moonlight, stands Richard Castle. He's still, attention fixed on the sight before him. She doesn't need to be a detective to see what has captured him so fully. 

Pushing off the doorjamb, she crosses the room on silent feet. She leans into his back, circling her arms around his waist as she hooks her chin over his shoulder to see what he's seeing.

There, in the crib, sleeping like the baby he is, is her son.

Their son.

The biggest blessing in a life full of them.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" Castle asks quietly, apparently not at all surprised to find her joining him.

She huffs out a laugh, a small smile curving her lips. "Are you fishing for a compliment?"

"No," he says, shaking his head minutely, frown knitting his brow. "It's just—he _is_ beautiful. _Not_ because of who his parents are. And maybe _precisely_ because of who his parents are. Does that make sense?"

It's strange for his words to get so tangled up, but not so strangely—at least nowadays—she knows exactly what he means. "Yeah, he's beautiful."

"I remember the first time I held Alexis," he says, speaking in that faraway voice that tells her he's lost in his memories. "She was so tiny, and I was so afraid I was going to hurt her somehow. But I was also in awe. I mean, here's this little miracle that I had a hand in creating. And I so wanted to get it right, teach her everything I knew and make sure she didn't make the same mistakes I made."

Kate can relate. When she'd first found out she was pregnant, she'd spent an afternoon alternating between hyperventilation and heart-stopping joy. She felt then—and still feels now, truth be told—absolutely and utterly inadequate to the task of raising a child. But she knew then, just as she knows now, that it's her job to be ready, to share what she knows with this child and take the years as they come. It isn't perfect, but it's what is.

She's just glad she's not the only one feeling it.

"He'll be fine," she says instead. She knows she doesn't need to tell him that, but she feels the need just the same. "And despite the mistakes we're bound to make, he'll turn out just like his father."

Castle turns, looping his arms around her waist as he smiles down at her. "I sincerely hope he's not like me. I was a pain in the ass, according to my mother. She barely survived my childhood, as she's so fond of reminding me."

"And yet, she's just down the hall, probably listening to us talk right now on the baby monitor." She smiles, resting a hand on his heart, feeling it beat strong and sure under her fingers. "Besides, I'll take the man you turned out to be, even if I have to live through all the growing pains that come with it."

The smile he flashes her is at once boyish and gleeful, tinged with the hope only the love of a good woman can bring. He dips his head and kisses her, soft and sure. There's no intent behind it, beyond showing his deep and abiding love for her, but she's okay with that. They're both too tired for anything else anyway.

Their kiss is interrupted by the soft sounds of their son stirring in his crib. Castle turns, arms still around Kate, and they both watch as the baby's face scrunches up as if he's preparing to wail, only to subside with a soft sigh.

Castle chuckles. "Definitely his mother's son."

"Hey," she says quietly. She'd be insulted, except he really is her son. 

They stand in the moonlight a while longer, both watching him sleep. He's barely three days old, but Kate doesn't think she'll ever get tired of seeing him like this: warm, content, peaceful. Eventually, Castle squeezes her gently. "Come on. Let's go back to bed."

"Yeah," she says. She takes one last look at the sleeping baby in the crib before taking Castle's hand and following him out of the room.

They slip quietly through the loft and into their bed, snuggling under the now-cool sheets for the scant few hours of sleep they'll get before their son wakes them up again.

Kate sighs contentedly. All those years ago, when she first caught sight of Castle at the book release party where she'd first met him, she couldn't have imagined this moment. They never did get married, but their son binds them together more effectively than rings and an official piece of paper ever could. And there's not a second of her life over the last ten years that she'd change, especially if it meant not getting here at all.

"I can hear you thinking," Castle whispers into the dark. She laughs quietly, burying her nose into his warm, t-shirt-clad chest. "What are you thinking about?"

"Just counting my blessings," she says. She knows she doesn't have to explain that to him, that he'll get it all on his own, and that's what she loves so much about him. That she never has to explain what she's thinking, that he just knows, because he knows her.

He drops a kiss into her hair. "Better than counting sheep." He's quiet for the space of a few heartbeats, and she thinks maybe he's fallen asleep, until he shifts, pulls her closer. "Thank you," he says, low and quiet, emotion betrayed in the tremor of his voice. "Thank you for my son. James is a miracle I thought I'd never have with you, and I am so glad that you're his mother. Just—thank you."

Kate moves closer still, pressing a kiss to his chest. "He's our miracle, Castle. And I'm just as grateful to you for giving this to me, all of it."

"Do you think it's illegal to be this happy?"

"Maybe," she says, chuckling. "But I won't tell if you don't."

"Deal," he says.

Time stretches, and she feels him relax into sleep. Just before she drifts off, she whispers _I love you_ , his own whispered _I love you back_ the last thing she hears before sleep claims her.

When she sleeps, she dreams of blue eyes and baby-soft skin and sweet, sweet blessings.

~Finis

**Author's Note:**

> And yes, the line about counting blessings comes from the song _Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep_ , from one of my favorite movies, _White Christmas_.
> 
> And apparently, I'm a genius even when I'm not trying to be. I just realized that I named their son James, which is Kate's father's name. Huh.


End file.
